


Five Ways They Could Have Found Percival Graves (and the one way they did)

by Truetomorrow



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (or attempt to be funny), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Magic, And will have different tags, Chapter 3 will contain a major character death, Cheese, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I AM SORRY, M/M, and or serious, each chapter is a different AU, i'm so subtle, the rest will be funny, who can spot the Hamilton references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-08-09 20:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truetomorrow/pseuds/Truetomorrow
Summary: "And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you." TCoS, Kiersten WhiteSometimes the real treasure you find is the family you make along the way. And sometimes the treasure is being found.





	1. My Labor and My Leisure

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title from Emily Dickinson's [Because I could not stop for Death](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/because-i-could-not-stop-death-479). A bit of humor to start us off.   
> Anyway, the title says it all, doesn't it? I'll be posting a chapter every day this week (*eyebrow waggle* gotta get that attention) for six days. Cool good story, thanks for listening.   
> Note: Only rated T for chapter 3. Maybe I should have done this as a series, but the sections are sooo short. Thoughts?

Setting his briefcase down beside his desk, Percival heaves a sigh of relief before collapsing into his desk chair. What was supposed to have been a nice dinner with his sister had turned into an unexpected weekend trip to London. Theseus had floo'd during dinner—where Percival had been in the middle of a story about the Second Salemer boy—begging Percival to come to England as quickly and discreetly as possible. While he was tempted to  postpone the trip until he could plan it better, his sister had been smiling in a way he didn't like during the whole story... and the one before that... and maybe Percival had mentioned Credence a few times that night. But it was _work_ related. 

Plus, Theseus had said that he needed help locating his little brother, and Percival had known Theseus for long enough to know what that meant: Newt had gotten his hands on some creature that no one was supposed to find out was missing, or otherwise out in the world.

Two cross-country floo trips in as many days drained him, and this felt like the first time he had been able to sit down since leaving his office on Friday afternoon. 

Regretfully, he stands again and removes his coat before hanging it up and turning to return to his seat. Pausing in the act of straightening his jacket from leftover travel dust, Percival frowns slightly as he takes in the state of his desk. He was sure he had left it in a better state… 

Rubbing his face, he takes a seat and pulls the nearest newspaper to him, the one glowing the bright red of urgency – although he's sure it can't be too important, or he would have been called in – before freezing. “Director of Magical Security, Percival Graves, has been missing since Friday…” 

Wide-eyed, Percival checks the date on the paper, noting it is indeed only Monday's morning edition. Today's edition. “What the—?” 

His door slams open to reveal a furious Seraphina. He jumps to his feet, still holding the paper. 

“Sera, what—?” 

“Where have you been?” 

In his shock, it's been years since Seraphina's yelled at him like that, Percival drops the newspaper to the desk, and from beneath the box holding his quills come the shreds of what had at one time been his note to Sera about the sudden overseas emergency. 

He groans. Those damned MACUSA memos. He knew he should have sent it as a cat of "urgency", and not the usual mouse for requests of "vacation". 

Percival gestures at the remainder of the newspapers on his desk, all glowing in various shades of urgency for his attention. “What did I miss?”


	2. Hurry, Hurry, Hurry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No magic AU, everyone's a teen, spoiler: fluff ahead. Fluff and cheese. Chapter title is from _Nine Coaches Waiting_ by Mary Stewart (though she in in fact quoting from [another source](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nine_Coaches_Waiting#Notes))  
>  Enjoy ❤️

Footsteps pound above his head, and Percival draws himself more tightly into the corner. The closet isn’t ideal, but he’d run out of time. There hadn’t been time to think, or plan, just to react. 

As he crouches low, his thoughts drift to Credence, hoping the younger man will be okay. Faintly, he can hear the rolls of thunder outside, the sound of pouring rain is barely audible over his rapid pulse. He feels drawn to move, to run... but there is nowhere. He is too late. 

Hearing shrieks outside, Percival closes his eyes, knowing exactly what’s coming next, but powerless, unable to do anything to stop it. The door is thrown open, and Percival tucks his face into his folded arms desperately. Black hair pressed against his black hoodie. Maybe if he holds still enough, he’ll blend into… 

“Stop being a sore loser, Perce. We found you fair and square, now get up.” Sera pokes her head into the open doorway with an arched brow. 

Percival heaves a sigh and takes the hand Seraphina offers, and he joins the group as they search for the last member of the party. 

Percival grins at Queenie when she winks at him — he knows exactly where Credence is; the younger man had chosen Percival’s favorite hiding spot, which had led to him ending up hiding in the closet. Tina and Jacob run down the stairs, whooping like kids, but their laughter is infectious and the other teens join in as they poke through the house. 

On the periphery, he spots movement in the library, and glances around swiftly to make sure the others aren't there. Lightning flashes outside as, across the room, he locks eyes with Credence and they grin at each other before the roll-top desk silently closes again, Credence assured of his hiding spot. 

Percival gleefully rejoins in the hunt until Sera finally calls for Credence to come out. They've ended up in the kitchen, and even Seraphina has conceded that the new kid is even better at hiding than Percival. With a small smile that barely escapes smugness, Percival shrugs. 

Moments later, Credence enters the room and is handed a cookie by Jacob. Credence takes an overly dramatic bow, and Percival watches, his heart swelling. Tina mutters about Credence spending too much time with Percival, but she's smiling and Percival's only argument with that is how it's still not enough time. 

Eyeing Credence’s disheveled hair and bright grin, Percival wonders if the group would consider a game of sardines, next. Credence catches his eye and grins, making his way over to link arms. Credence offers Percival a bite of his cookie, and Percival takes it. The cookie is the perfect level of crunchy from the oven, his friends' glowing faces surround him, and Credence is warm where he's pressed against Percival's side; as the rain continues to pour down, Percival can't think of anywhere he would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, I had so many errands to do, and a migraine coming on. Did as much as I could before that settled in. 
> 
> If you enjoyed, comments are always appreciated. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> (P.S. hey, is anyone proud of me, not indenting every paragraph?)


	3. Through Dry Leaves the Wind Is Sighing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sad chapter.   
> Title is from a version of Goethe's [Erlkönig](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erlk%C3%B6nig_\(Goethe\))

Even, maybe even especially, in the magical world, psychics are a long shot but at this point, Tina has run out of ideas, the Department has run out of leads, and... well... Tina forces herself not to think about the Director and how much time he has left. 

So, when Queenie sits down across from her sister one morning, face set and eyes guarded, Tina sets down her coffee and waits. She hears her sister out. 

Jacob knows somebody, and with the way the Statute has been enforced since The Incident, a no-maj baker – who isn’t even supposed to know Queenie exists, much less remember the events of the preceding days – may just be their best bet.

That night, she meets with Queenie and Jacob after her shift – reinstated as an Auror due to the need for manpower – and when they enter the space, she pretends not to notice the familiar faces she had just left. She shoots a glance at Queenie, but her sister keeps the same determined look on her face from that morning, and Tina knows there is no point asking any questions. She takes another look around, covertly studying the faces seated in a loose circle around the heavily draped table. All Senior Aurors or long-time MACUSA employees. Her back stiffens. No, there is no need to ask the question when she knows the answer. Anyone who would have been closest to the Director is there. 

The psychic is nowhere to be seen, and Tina links arms with Queenie as they find seats. She shares a weak smile with the wizard seated next to her, a healer she knows has been with MACUSA since the Director's father had been the Graves in MACUSA. 

Any possible conversation is halted when a woman who can only be the psychic enters the room. She's young, and Tina is surprised she had expected someone older, but this girl can't be more than 19, with overly large glasses and puffy hair barely tamed by one of what must be a dozen scarves on her person. 

The session starts off as expected, the psychic's voice wavers in the middle of her sentences and is pitched to grab an audience's attention; and Tina fights to keep herself from shouting in frustration. 

Odd noises, curtains shifting, all kids’ stuff to trick the regular no-maj clients, but Queenie’s hand, warm and solid in her own, keeps her seated. 

After the woman realizes no one is reacting as she expected, the psychic turns to the hunched figure who had been the last to join them, and Tina jolts. She knowsthat face —! 

_Credence_. Queenie looks over at her with her determined eyes and shakes her head. 

Tina says nothing. 

The psychic is smiling widely at the young man, trying to draw him in, but he stares back, unsmiling, and asks, “Where is he?” 

The woman lets out a small laugh, and seems about to respond, when a shuffle goes through everyone assembled, the question running through the minds of everyone in the circle, and her eyes droop. 

“I love thee, thy beauty I covet and choose, be willing, my darling, or force I shall use!” 

She reaches out a single hand to stroke the young man’s cheek, and when he jerks away from the motion in horror at the same time as Queenie lets out a small cry, Tina realizes the stricken look on Credence's face isn’t because of the sudden touch. She didn't recognize the words, but it was obviously a quote that Queenie and Credence know. 

Tears flood her eyes as she shakes her head. “No.” The psychic blinks rapidly, seemingly dazed. “No. How can we _find_ him?” 

But the woman looks uncomfortable now, and won’t meet anyone’s eyes. 

Queenie’s trembling next to her, tears rolling down her face. “Teenie.” 

Tina stands suddenly, furiously; the chair going flying behind her. “No. It can’t end like this. Not for him. Not…” 

She’s pleading, she knows, but can’t stop — but the psychic is gone and Tina knows there would be no point in trying to track her down. 

If anyone wonders why the senior aurors arrive to work the next day, silent and haunted, even before an anonymous top arrives by pigeon, the whole of MACUSA is in too much in shock to pay much attention to that, or the shadow that hovers on the edges of the memorial service. The same shadow that led the recovery of the body. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sent a list of ideas for ways they would find Percival, and one of them was "They don't." So like. Here it is
> 
> The line the psychic quotes is from the Erlkönig also. One of the translations, anyway. HC that Real Graves had read poetry to Credence, so Cre knew what the poem meant, and Queenie heard it in his head. 
> 
> In case anyone's wondering.... the psychic may or may not be Trelawney. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. This Rose Will Never Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song [_My Lady D'Arbanville_](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_D%27Arbanville), which Tartanic would play at the Ren Faire I worked at in high school. The way they told it, the song was written for the artist's girlfriend when she went on a trip and he missed her. According to the Wiki, that's not why it was actually written, but it's always stayed with me as something really funny and Extra™

Queenie frowns when she checks her cubbyhole – nothing. It’s been hours since she dropped off the latest chapter of her fanfic, and the Director hasn’t responded. Queenie pauses as she files another batch of wand permits, demonstrating for Tina who sits sullenly beside her. 

There in body, but itching to get back into the field. Tina, who had been demoted from Auror to the quiet recesses of the wand permits office. Tina who had been demoted without a word by her boss and mentor. The same man who is now not responding to Queenie’s latest chapter, although she knowshe had been looking forward to this one in particular. 

The prince and his manservant-sometimes-squire had finally been alone together and there had been hand-holding. Hand-holding! With no comments or enthusiastic memos rushed her way. 

In fact, he hadn’t even glanced up at her when she had stopped by to deliver it. 

Queenie’s frown deepens, and Tina finally notices her sister’s distraction, knocking their shoulders together gently. 

“Something’s wrong with him.” Tina blinks. 

“Abernathy? He’s not the best boss, but he’s—“ Queenie shakes her head impatiently. “Teenie. Something’s wrong with Director Graves.” 

Tina sucks in a breath and looks at her sister’s face, studying it, before she nods. “Alright. I’m in.” 

Queenie chuckles, and sends the last bunch of permits to their respective folders, “You just want to get out of this office.” 

But when the sisters stand to gather their things, Tina slips her wand up her sleeve rather than in the standard holster. 

Something is not right with Percival Graves, but she and Tina don’t need to speak as they grab their jackets. 

Tina shouts a cheerful “off to lunch, sir!” and Queenie smiles charmingly at Abernathy as he pokes his head out. Distractedly, Abernathy waves them off, stammering out a half-response to Queenie’s, “and I’m off to rounds for tea.” 

They were going to figure out what was wrong with the Director, and Queenie was going to get her response!

Cautiously, they approach the door to the Director's office; Tina, tense and focused, Queenie listening as best she can. The wards are too strong, though, and Queenie shakes her head. With a nod, Tina straightens, adjusts her jacket, and knocks on the door. 

"Enter."

The sisters do as they're bade, and Queenie hides a frown. She still doesn't hear anything. Or, at least, not the familiar sounds of the Director's occlumancy crackling away. When she focuses, letting Tina talk to the man, she realizes there is a faint sound, as of waves breaking on the shores of a lake. Not crashing like the ocean, but water against sand, nonetheless. 

Every so often, she thinks there is more, a crackle beneath the relentless water, but she can't be sure. 

She has to be very sure. 

Tina has puffed herself up and raised her voice by the time Queenie butts in. "Sir, I wanted to ask... what did you think about the new chapter?" 

The Director's eyes focus on her as she smiles brightly and he blinks. 

"Well, I'm aftaid I haven't yet had the time to look it over. I'm sure it's just as good as the rest."

Queenie dimples at him, a crackle sounds in her head, and she focuses on it. "Sir, I thought you would have been waiting to read this one! The prince hosts a ball and falls in love with a princess; they're set to be married in the next chapter!" 

The crackle becomes a roar, and the box sitting on the Director's desk bursts apart to reveal a bruised, ruffled, and _furious_ Percival Graves. 

"He _can't_ marry the princess!! He's in love with his manservant! They were going to run away together!" Queenie's smile turns sharp and icy, as slowly everyone turns to look at the man behind the Director's desk. 

Queenie can see the calculating gaze skimming over the three of them, but before anyone in the room can move, a ball of black smoke pounces into the room, smack against the man's chest. It surrounds him, effectively trapping him in place – and giving Queenie the first real read on his mind; she recoils in shock – as a red haired wizard appears in the doorway. 

Tina glows. "Newt!" The man, Newt, smiles fondly at Tina as he steps fully into the room. 

They stand side-by-side as the smoke enveloping the not-Director roils in agitation. 

"Grindelwald," Queenie says. He sneers at them, but the ebony wand is back with its rightful owner, grabbed when the dark wizard had been distracted. There is no escape for him now. 

"Tina, Percival, Miss Goldstein, meet Credence." Newt is supporting the Director now, and Tina gasps. 

"Credence..." the Director breathes, and Queenie hears what can only be described as a purr from the smoke around Grindelwald. 

Finally, they hear footsteps rushing towards them, and Newt and Tina cast different spells to bind Grindelwald. The smoke drifts away to hover in front of the Director, and when he smiles and reaches out, by the time his hand makes contact, a young man stands where the angry black cloud had been.

Wordlessly, the two embrace, clinging tightly to each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N.B.: leave comments ;D 
> 
> Silly little thing I posted a prompt about on tumblr. Then wrote it myself, as I do. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed, I know I missed a few days there, but yikes is it discouraging to not have anyone commenting on a fic. I know I write what I wanna write, I'm just SAYING, okay? The rest will be up in the next day or so :)
> 
> Side note: in this fic, Percival's only been missing for a day, and Newt found the Obscurus, who turned out to be Credence. It's a happy story. Grindy is using polyjuice. In a way which I'll mention in the final chapter, but it really didn't seem important to include here.


	5. i think this line's mostly filler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Line from the Buffy musical episode

After the events in the subway, the rest of the night seems to go by in slow motion. Queenie remains subdued, Tina is furiously making notes, Credence has returned to human form and is asleep with his head on Queenie's lap as they rest on the sofa by the fire. 

With nothing to go off of, Tina is becoming increasingly frustrated. How can you find someone who no one will admit is missing? Official avenues are closed to her, although she has been reinstated as an auror, because it had not been the real Percival Graves who had demoted her. MACUSA can't allow the world to know just how compromised they became, so Tina is stuck in the small dining room, silently pulling her hair in distress as she reaches snother dead-end. 

Queenie perks up moments before there is a knock on the door, and her whole body tenses even as her hand continues to stroke through Credence's hair in comfort. She's smiling, though, the first time all night the pain has faded from her eyes, and Tina rushes to open the door. 

Wide-eyed, she stares at the men in front of her. Newt grins and steps inside when Tina gestures them in, the other man entering more slowly, limping slightly, looking around swiftly before focusing on the couch. His face relaxes.

Queenie holds out her hand to him, and he joins her on the couch, holding her against his side as she continues to stroke Credence's hair. Credence slumbers on.

Tina spreads her hands in disbelief. "What—?"

Newt smiles proudly. "I found him." He frowns slightly when she doesn't react immediately.

"I can see that, but... Newt. How? How did you find him?" 

At this, Newt's smile widens again, "I was a Hufflepuff, of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't not, okay??? Newt was a Hufflepuff, AVPM is amazing, and the fic was about FINDING Percival. Hehehe


	6. All Our Sundered Worlds Lie Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to a series of unfortunate events, this chapter got lost, so this is the rewritten version, from the last saved draft. Don't post and Amtrak, friends. At least, not when you're in the middle of nowhere. Also, save often.   
> I do hope it still works. Mille pardons!

The silence is deafening.

It's a phrase Percival has heard before, but never understood until now – the silence stretches on without end, and Percival would scream if he could.

If he thought it would change anything.

If the silence didn't come back again, stronger and more horrible than before.

~

He is still alive, he thinks. He can see through the charms that hold him here, even if he remains unable to escape.

He ignores the voice that whispers _unwilling_? Even if it is too late, even if the damage has been done, he is determined to get out. To fix what he can. To warn Sera. To see Credence just once more. Even as he is unable to save himself, he dreams – or something like dreaming – about finding Credence, finding that woman, and ripping the whole charade of a church to shreds.

~

Sometimes, he sees his own face staring back at him; sees Grindelwald grinning at him in an expression his face had never assumed when he was in control. As the man tucks the polyjuice capsule in between his gum and cheek he throws a wink to the mirror before he leaves. If pure rage were enough to free him, Percival would have enough fuel from that single action. As he remains trapped, however, anger cannot be the answer.

~

He sees the Aurors, when they arrive, and he resumes the efforts he made in the beginning; anything to escape, to draw attention to himself. Screams, battering against the invisible wall that keeps him here, even whispers – not putting it past the dark wizard to have made that the way out. None of the Aurors even blink. Once they leave, all he is left with is the silence once again.

~

He sees the smoke one night, and laughs to himself.

"So this is how I die." The laugh is bitter, tinged with hysteria, but he can't feel too bothered by it; he simply watches the smoke come towards the glass, watches it as it swarms around as if in an attempt to find any cracks, watches as it solidifies into a figure.

Worse than death, then. Grindelwald has escaped and returned only to find new ways to torture him.

The form of Credence stands in the hallway. Funny, normally he imagines the younger man away from here entirely, the two of them safe, away from New York. "No, this is how I lose my mind. Still. There are worse last sights."

Two sets of hands press up against the glass and Percival squints at the second figure. Porpentina's sister... Queenie Goldstein? That's new.

"Director Graves." She seems to lock eyes with him, impossible as it is, "Don't worry, honey, we're comin' for ya."

Percival smiles. That's sweet. He's not sure where her image came from, but who is he to fight a friendly voice now?

He closes his eyes, only to have them snap back open when the world shakes around him. Focusing past the glass again, he notices that the Credence image has gone fuzzy around the edges, and the Queenie image has both hands pressed flat against the glass, her eyes as hard as the most weathered Auror's. He sees the family resemblance to Tina.

Exhausted, he feels his eyes start to close once more, and the room shakes yet again. This time, when he looks back at Queenie's face, there is no doubt that she sees him. Somehow, she knows he's in here.

His heart stops before he scrambles up, moving to put his own hand against the invisible glass. It's as cold and sturdy as ever. Still.

She can _see_ him.

He glances away, seeking out the face he hasn't stopped thinking of since they'd met, and there it is: a bruise on his cheek that hadn't been there before, hair no longer a hacked up disaster, old-fashioned but well-fitted clothes. Small details his dream Credence had never possessed.

They lock eyes.

"Credence...?" He croaks.

The world explodes.

~

Percival groans. Alive. He is most definitely alive.

He'd once described it to his mother and Sera as, "you know, because everything hurts, all at once and ceaselessly, but you're relieved." Sera had sniffed, fingers kept laced with his, and declared that she would leave the heroics to Aurors; his mother had scoffed but pulled his bandaged hand to her heart.

Wincing, Percival shifts in the narrow bed. He'd expected to be in the hospital, where the beds are wide and familiar, but there seems to be something —

He opens his eyes. Smiles. Amber eyes in a pale face look back at him. Wide with fear, but more dear than anything Percival has ever known.

"Good morning, Credence."

"Good morning, Sir."

There are tears in his eyes, and Percival lets them slide down unchecked as he raises his arm to meet Credence's, letting their clasped hands fall to rest between their chests.

"You found me."

Credence smiles, and Percival feels his heart stutter. "Only returning the favor, Sir." He pauses, studying Percival's face. "I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner, and for, well..." he glances around the hospital room, and Percival squeezes his fingers.

"You saved me. I thought no one..."

Credence shakes his head. He leans in, lips so close Percival can feel every exhale; "Percival, I will always be here to find you. To save you."

Percival nudges Credence's nose with his own, making his eyes crinkle fondly. "Always," Percival agrees, before leaning in to kiss Credence.

He can feel his heart beating in his chest, Credence's hand wrapped around his own, the breathless laugh that brushes over his lips when they briefly pull apart. Explanations and statements will come soon enough – for now, it is enough for the two of them to be together. To be whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Diane Duane's _So You Want to Be a Wizard_ which I adored as a kid, and still love to this day.   
> _I will guard growth and ease pain. I will fight to preserve what grows and lives well in its own way; and I will change no object or creature unless its growth and life, or that of the system of which it is part, are threatened. To these ends, in the practice of my Art, I will put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to do so—till Universe’s end. I will look always toward the Heart of Time, where all times are one, where all our sundered worlds lie whole, as they were meant to be._

**Author's Note:**

> *Jazzy number plays*
> 
> If you enjoyed this, or had any thoughts about it at all, comments are forever and always appreciated. I hope you all understand that Diana can't sit in my lap OR be petted while I'm writing, so the least you could do to make her little kitty suffering not a waste is to leave a comment. If you're so inclined ;D


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